


Pushed

by TheMulletWhisperer



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Bar Room Brawl, Fights, Fistfight, Gen, Harassment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 15:00:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7110382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMulletWhisperer/pseuds/TheMulletWhisperer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a Dunmer harasses Galina to her breaking point, she and a kinsman give him a taste of Nordic justice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pushed

**Author's Note:**

> So this was supposed to be a different story, but then something happened and uh...this happened. Hopefully I'll have something else up, soon!

For once, just for  _ once _ , Galina wished people would shut up. She wished they’d shut up, fuck off, and think long and hard about how they could extract their heads from their assholes. Unfortunately, no such luck.

In the midst of trying to have a peaceful drink in the Bannered Mare, some lecherous out-of-town Dunmer had started flirting with her and trying to impress her with an embellished story about his wondrous adventures. At first, she’d just ignored his antics, writing it off as what she encountered every other day in a tavern, but he quickly started to annoy--especially as he didn’t let up as he ignored her. An hour, this went on before she spoke up at him.

“I’m not interested.”

This seemed to hit something inside of him, something that made him defensive. Instead of walking away, he simply kept pressing, but in a far less charming manner, if that were even possible. “Oh, angry now are we? That time of the month?”

That comment alone was already starting to get to her, “I know it is for you, but what is it for me?” Once again, he got even more defensive. 

“Oh listen to that  _ sharp _ wit, I’m sure it could cut  _ butter _ if it were sharpened.” At best, the insult was poorly-formulated. 

“You’re just embarrassing yourself, ashskin. Fuck off and let me enjoy my drink in peace.”

“Oh just stop being so moody!”

In an attempt to stop her from jumping him immediately and caving his skull in, she shut her eyes and took a deep breath. “Fuck. Off.”

“Oh all angry? Just like a Nord to be so. You don’t know what you’re missing, Nord.”

“I’m sure I don’t, but I’m concerned for you, with your head stuck so far up your own damn ass that you can taste your dinner!” By now, she was raising her voice and was starting to get some looks from the patrons--mostly in confusion, but understanding from the females.

“Don’t be so grumpy, it’s unbecoming. Anger is no substitute for wit, afterall.”

“There’s also a difference between wit and being an asshole.”

“Oh certainly  _ I  _ am the asshole, my  _ apologies _ , Nord.”

“I told you to FUCK OFF!” The last two words of her demand were loud enough to be heard throughout the tavern.

“Hah! Nords, so haughty and and smug. Don’t you know you’ve lost this argument, Nord? You’ve gotten angry!” In his talking, he seemed to miss the large Nordic man that stood almost three feet taller than him approaching from behind--though neither did Galina. She was too angry. With a yell, she kicked her seat aside and tossed the whiskey into the Dunmer’s eyes. Immediately, he covered them with his palms, screaming and leaving him vulnerable for Galina to kick him right in the gut, sending him stumbling backwards and  _ right _ into the arms of the Nord behind him. In a manner conducive to a jolly cooperation between the two humans, the man threw the Dunmer into one of the pillars, stunning him and knocking his breath from his lungs.

Taking the opportunity, Galina kicked him in the gut as he sat on his hands and knees and sent him to the ground, after which she and the large man began mercilessly striking him, alternating between kicking him wherever they could reach and punching him right in the face. This went on for over a minute before the man backed off and signalled for Galina to do the same.

By now, the mer was unconscious, bleeding from several places, and looked like he had more than a few broken ribs. Uncaring of this fact, however, the Nord carried him to the door and threw tossed him out on the street like a ragdoll, where he rolled down the steps to the tavern and onto the cobblestones to later be found by patrolling guards. 

The Nord turned back to Galina, who was wrapping her slightly bruised knuckles with all of the patrons looking on in a mix of shock and appeasement. An armored hand appeared in Galina’s face which made her reel for a moment before realizing it was held out to shake. Gladly, she took gripped it firmly and shook his hand, “Thanks, kinsman. I haven’t felt that good in a while. Galina.”

Grinning down at her, the Nord pulled his hand back, “No problem. I can’t stand those damn elves. Sinmir.” Exchanging nods, but little else otherwise, Galina picked up her bag and flipped her hood up, heading out to the streets.

This would make quite a story to tell Arkved.


End file.
